What If Raoul Hand't Shown?
by sharonarnotdon
Summary: Will be several snippets from the Lloyd Webber Musical where it may be what would happen if Raoul hadn't interfered at the moment. EC mostly Maybe some MR
1. Default Chapter

_What If Raoul Hadn't Shown?_

A series of short stories.

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One-

_Angel of Music/Wandering Child_

--

Christine's eyes shot up as he stepped out from behind the cross and began to sing to her, she felt every nerve in her body tingle at the nearly forgotten sound of his voice and so she turned fully to him, listened to what he sang.

_Wandering child so lost,_

_so helpless_

_yearning for my_

_guidance._

She tilted her head, feeling almost unsure of him, did he dare to approach her in such a way? Was this a cruel hoax?

_Angel ...or father..._

_Friend...or phantom_

_Who is it there staring?_

Barely giving her a chance to finish he sang.

_Have you forgotten your Angel?_

Thrilled beyond belief that he had forgiven her, he had dared to come to her again she smiled softly, then gradually the smile grew and she was glowing to a degree.

_Angel...oh speak!_

_What endless_

_longings_

_echo in this_

_whisper!_

He shook his head sadly and held a hand out to her, inviting her closer but she did not accept yet, watched him, listened to what he was singing, prayed that nothing would ruin this more than welcome reunion with her dear teacher and friend.

_Too long you've wandered_

_In winter_

_Far from my far reaching gaze._

Suddenly she began to wonder if she should go to him, if this should happen, she was part of the plot to kill him! Ashamed and afraid to go to him now but still ecstatic and needing of him she sang in a light, but soulful whisper.

_Wildly my mind beats against you ..._

They were slowly loosening up to each other, both ready to approach the other but Erik kept it apart for the moment.

_You resist yet ..._

_The/your soul obeys_

While he sang to her, similar words were pouring from her mouth, words that had been welling for six months, words she needed to get out.

_Angel of Music_

_You denied me_

_Turning from true beauty_

_Angel of Music_

_Do not shun me_

_Come to your strange Angel_

_Angel of Music_

_I denied you_

_Turning from true beauty_

_Angel of Music _

_my protector_

_Come to me strange Angel_

And God, now he was uttering those words she had longed to hear for six months, he was beckoning her, telling her to come to him in a way only they would know, only they could understand. This was their little secret, well kept and for her sorely missed.

_I am your Angel of Music_

_Come to me Angel of Music_

Obediently she began to approach, her steps were slow and precise, she did not bother watching the ground for things that might trip her, she trusted him, as he was beginning to trust her again, it would take some time, but he was slowly accepting her again. How lonely he must have been! And what he must have done to himself in the time he was alone! She could just imagine him pouring over that opera, fighting the tears and cursing her. At this, tears welled in her own eyes, and she turned her head, the trance broken by her separate thoughts. But Erik beckoned her still.

_I am your Angel of Music_

_Come to me Angel of Music_

She made her way closer and stopped just before him, avoiding his inquiring gaze as her tears spilled down her cheeks, she felt two of his fingers slip beneath her chin and they lifted her head to look at him, she closed her eyes and her body jerked with a repressed sob, Erik read her for a moment, trying to pick up the thoughts she must have had to have made her start crying, then he brushed his hand over her cheek, wiping away the tears and he whispered. "Do not let it trouble you Christine, I had a great time to think."

"But," she gasped. "But Erik! What I did to you, what you must have gone through!"

He shook his head. "Do not let it worry you, just let yourself go, be free, I am here and I forgive you, I understand that you love the boy but . . ."

"No," she whispered, shook her head and sniffled.

He gazed at her in shock. "What do you mean?"

"I don't," she shook her head sadly and sat down with her back against the cross, she patted for him to sit next to her behind it so they were hidden from view. "I thought once that I loved Raoul but these past few months I've been doing a lot of thinking myself and I know now that I don't love him. I was afraid of you, and I needed a friend, and Raoul was there, and I mistook my great gratefulness and maybe a little crush on him for love, but he is not the man I love."

Erik slowly, but painfully inhaled, his fear but longing for her next words overwhelming. "You love another?"

She nodded softly with a light smile at the slight wheeze in his voice. She turned and looked at him, taking one of his hands. "Yes, I do."

With a low whimper he swept her into his arms, buried his masked face in her neck and sobbing a bit, she held him as tightly, her own tears being released. "My love, I'm sorry!" She gasped.

"No, no, no more of it! I don't care, not as long as I have you!" He sobbed into her hair some more then pulled back. "Christine is it true? Do you love me?"

She gazed at his worry warmly, then leaned in and gently sealed their lips together, shoving the mask out of her way and cupping his face closer to hers. He sighed and wrapped her in his arms, never wanting the sudden kiss to end but eventually breaking from her when he could hold his breath no longer.

"Christine what of my opera? Surely they have set a trap for me there?"

With a deep sigh she shook her head. "Not if they don't know you're there or . . ." She grinned mischievously. "We could not go at all! The world is open to us Erik! Let us go now and see it!"

The warmth of his love in his eyes, the chill of the night wind and light of the moon settling against him he stood with her arms in his hands, pulling her up and against his chest, then wrapping his cloak around her and whispering. "We shall discuss it more soon, for now, come, I don't want you catching ill."

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A crazy idea put down, tell me what you think. For these little stories, they will be from scattered moments of the musical, maybe once I've finished I shall put them in a particular order but for now they'll be a bit mixed up. Please forgive me if my updating grows less, I'm moving back to Paris after 18 years (before you flip out, I'm 24 the 26th of this month) of living in the U.S., so not only do I have to ready myself to be able to use the Euro, I have some significant packing to do.

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Adieu for now. 'Shattered' shall arrive here by the end of next week. 


	2. 2

_What if Raoul Hadn't Shown to the performance of Il Muto?_

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Christine gazed sadly at the note in her hand, Raoul had mysteriously gotten the flu and could not come tonight, he told her to stay near the managers and other dancers and to look forward to seeing him soon. _Pfft, sure, while he's got chills and sniffles we'll talk over dinner._ She thought sarcastically and was told to take her place. She did so begrudgingly and as she lamely sat with Carlotta she thought about her dark angel, Erik, as he had told her, The Phantom of the Opera. Her eyes wandered to his box, knowing she would not see past the shadows there but unable to deny that he intrigued her in a dark, almost gratifying way, as immoral and wanton as that sounded, she saw something in him she had not seen in Raoul, past his face and the rumors about him, she felt pity for him, and friendship, a little girl's crush. She smiled softly as her cheeks warmed uncomfortably and rushed off the stage on cue.

She was not in this scene so she sat and pondered her feelings some more. She did not know why his regal darkness and sweet ways made her so pliable, so weak, she did not know why suddenly she wished she was in his arms, telling him of her feelings, hoping he would satisfy the uncontrollable desire which she felt at the thought of him, God save her blackened soul! If she told Raoul about this surely he would think Erik had poisoned her mind, but in truth she knew it was fate which led her to these savage feelings of need and want, this insatiable thirst for Erik and what he stood for, she had lived in the day long enough, perhaps it was time for the night. She needed to cool her flaming skin and feral hunger for his kiss, perhaps even with Erik's own flesh would she find that cool, she did not know, but she knew if she did not go to him to at least explain this tonight she would never have the chance, Raoul would get well and whisk her away, she could not let that happen.

As soon as the opera finished she rushed to her dressing room, wiped away her greasepaint and removed her costume, hung it up and slipped into her shift and then her dressing gown, she turned to the mirror, yes, this was how she had gotten down before. She went to it, not able to open it and so she groaned with exasperation and pressed a palm to it. "Erik are you there? I need to speak with you!"

Silence for a moment, then came his soft response. "Step back a bit, Christine." She obeyed and the mirror opened, revealing him. He appeared sad, disheartened and feeling her own heart twist with pity she went to him and to his complete shock and happiness she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his proud and lean chest. Slowly his own arms came around her and he whispered. "Why do you hold me, child? What is wrong?"

"Something terrible Erik. You see, I care for a man very deeply," she felt him stiffen but continued. "And I betrayed his trust and embarrassed him, he's deformed, you see and I took his mask. Well, I'm afraid I hurt him badly but lately I've had feelings for him."

Erik breathed deeply, tightening his grip, hardly daring to believe. "What sort of feelings?"

"Pity, lust, lust, lust, affection, admiration, lust, hunger, devotion, love, lust."

He brought her back to gaze into her face and he smiled very softly, she grinned, no longer the innocent child but a woman who knew what she wanted. She reached up to cup his face in her hands and brought his lips to hers, giving him the first real kiss he had ever received, and so Erik swept her into his arms and took her to his home, and only did they leave when a hansom waited at the Rue Scribe for them, ready to take them to a new life that they would share together.

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Meh, it's short! Read and review, again, forgive the sexual little things, but let's be honest, even back then I'm sure they wouldn't have totally blocked THINKING about it, so I wont really apologize for making Christine think about it. Just for any offense it may cause. 


End file.
